


Gargoyles Aren't Supposed to Move Right?

by inkheart9459



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Steampunk AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5523275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkheart9459/pseuds/inkheart9459
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Steampunk AU, set in the 1800’s: Kommissar is a reclusive inventor who lives in a creepy house outside of town, and Beca and her friends (you can pick who) go Christmas caroling there one evening, then freak out because the house seems to be alive and oh god, gargoyles aren’t supposed to be sentient, right? They all scream and think they’re going to die, but then Kommissar invites them in, though she’s a little pissed off that they interrupted her night of reading with their yelling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gargoyles Aren't Supposed to Move Right?

“Come on Beca it will be fun!” Chole exclaimed, petticoats rustling in her excitement.

“Chloe,” Beca groaned. “The only reason I joined this singing group was because you promised there would be no performances.”

“I said no such thing. I said we didn’t have any performances yet. And your father also forced you to join.”

“He wanted me to join a socially acceptable club so I would have something to talk about at parties thrown by the department, not run around the town singing Christmas carols like a hooligan.” Beca rolled her eyes and angrily stomped her boots. Her corset was cutting into her like normal and all she wanted to do was go home and tinker around with her latest project. Her father thought it was foolish, her trying to invent an instrument that could make all manner of sounds and distort those that were already recorded, but she was sure it would change things in the music world greatly.

“But Beca, please?” And then Chloe put on her best puppy dog face and really it wasn’t fair that her best friend could emotionally manipulate her by pulling an adorable face but it worked every single time. “Fat Amy and Cynthia Rose and Aubrey and Emily have already said yes. Lily will probably appear from nowhere like normal too. It will be so much fun, Beca. We can showcase the Bellas talent and maybe someone will want us to perform elsewhere and even if they don’t we’ll be spreading Christmas cheer and can get hot chocolate afterwards.”

Beca scowled but perked up a little at the mention of hot chocolate. “Ugh. Fine Chloe but if this is a train wreck I am definitely blaming you.” With Fat Amy it was totally going to be a train wreck. Societal propriety was not something that Amy got. Not that Beca didn’t think most of that was bull, but she wouldn’t be caught out making a fool of herself either.

Chloe rushed forward and hugged Beca. “Oh thank you, thank you. It will be great you’ll see. I will collect you at six, dress warm it looks like it might storm later. Won’t a white Christmas be wonderful?”

Beca just nodded as Chloe shot off, a grin on her face. Beca groaned. She was totally in for it.

 

Their group walked along the street, snow falling softly around them. Beca huddled down into her cloak. She hated being wet. She hated being cold. And she was both at the same time and they had only hit one street worth of houses in the upper class section of town. Chloe would want to hit at least two more before she would let Beca slink off back to her own house where there was fire waiting for her and dry clothes.

“Chloe—” Beca said, but was cut off.

“Hey, aca-nerds, what do you say we go to that house?” Fat Amy pointed to the end of the road where a huge house was nestled behind so many trees that it was barely visible even now that the leaves had fallen and left the trees bare. “Nothing screams Christmas like a creepy mansion with gargoyles on the corners, am I right?”

“No, no you are not,” Beca said.

But Chloe was already walking off towards the house with a determined stride. Beca hurried to catch up with her friend, being careful not to slip on the snow. The last thing she needed right now was to slip and fall on her ass.

“Chloe what are you doing?” Beca’s voice was getting to that high annoying pitch she reached when she was anxious. It gave her away every single time and she hated it.

“We’re going to go sing at that house, of course.”

“Why? It looks like we will get murdered or worse there.”

Chloe glanced over at Beca and rolled her eyes. “Nonsense, things of that nature do not happen on this side of town.” She nudged Beca in the side. “You just want an excuse to go home.”

“I mean, yeah, but also, that is just a creepy house, Chloe. I doubt anyone is actually living there. I mean look at the state of the yard.”

“I think it’s a rather wonderful garden. We’ll sing a few songs and be gone before you realize, just as we have with every other home we have been to, okay?” But then she was grabbing Beca’s hand in a death grip and Beca knew there was no way she was getting out of this. She hoped that the gate was locked and that would be the end of this.

But of course the gate wasn’t locked. No, it super wasn’t locked because when they approached it not only was open, but actually they opened on their own, swinging inward on silent hinges. The hair on the back of Beca’s neck rose, but she was pulled forward before she could even protest.

“I wonder how they got their gates to open like that?” Aubrey asked from behind them. Beca could just see the other woman investigating, already planning an upgrade if she could figure it out. Anything in the name of efficiency for that one.

“Black magic and ritual sacrifice,” Lily whispered from behind the group, appearing seemingly from the ether.

Chloe looked over her shoulder as she continued to tug Beca up the path. “Oh, wonderful, Lily, you came.”

“Of course, someone had to bring the salt for the demons.” The quiet girl held up a container of salt with a smile like she’d done them some big favor.

The rest of the group looked at everyone else for a few seconds before nodding and smiling placatingly.

“Great, we can do The Little Drummer Boy now since you are here. Oh it will be great.” Chloe clapped hands and charged ahead.

The trees were closing in on them now and Beca could hear the wind whistling through them ominously. The light from the street lamps was almost nonexistent and she wondered how Chloe was managing to stay on the path. Then again, she had no idea if they were actually on the path. Of course they would wander off the path in front of the creepy mansion. Of course. They were going to be murdered in these small woods twenty feet from a road. Only this little ramshackle group of girls.

But then they were on the other side of the trees and they had not been murdered much to Beca’s surprise. She looked up at the mansion now that they could actually see it and gasped. Oh my, she had known it was a large house from the other side of the woods, it had to be on a lot as big as this, but what was in front of her was without words. It had to have at least a hundred rooms, spread out before them, dark grey stone absorbing the light, with copper embellishments around the windows, reflecting what light there was. And there really were gargoyles. She felt as if she was in a gothic novel.

“Wow, swanky place. Maybe we should ask for a donation. Looks like they have got some money to spare. Bumper, I mean I could really use some intimate apparel if you know what I mean.” Fat Amy winked at all of them suggestively and Beca felt her stomach turn just a little bit. Ugh, she did not need to know that.

Beca’s head jerked up. She swore she heard something moving, but now that she was looking there was nothing. She frowned. It just had to be this house freaking her out. Who even lived in the middle of the woods in a city. She huffed and stalked forward.

“Come on let’s get this over with.”

Chloe was by her side in a minute. “Well, that is not quite the attitude I was looking for, but I will take what I can get.”

Beca mumbled under her breath, mostly nonsense with a few choice swears too low for Chloe to hear. They wouldn’t be in front of a murder house if it was not for the other woman and her penchant for holiday spirit and overzealous promotion of the Bellas.

She stepped onto the porch just as something dropped down onto the roof above her with a loud thump. She jumped about a foot off the ground and looked back at the rest of the Bellas.

“What was that?” She looked for Lily and found her at the back of the group. So it had nothing to do with her, but then what had happened?

There was skittering on the roof above for another second and Beca froze, heart beating hard in her chest. So this was how she was going to go out then. It was not how she imagined it at all. At least she had hoped that she wouldn’t die in the middle of the woods in the middle of winter still in a corset. A nice comfortable death in her own bed had been too much to ask apparently.

A head popped down from the roof and Beca felt her eyes widening. It was one of the gargoyles but it was moving. Beca was not an expert in architecture but she was pretty sure that gargoyles were not supposed to move. The gargoyle blinked and disappeared for all of a second before jumping down and landing on the porch. Beca could see the thing clearly now. Lord above, it was made of separate pieces, and Beca could see the metal joints holding it together. There was loud ticking coming from the gargoyle as it moved forward.

“Lily! Now’s a good time for that salt, right?” Beca called, starting to back away from the thing.

The gargoyle followed her step by step. Beca didn’t dare to look back and see if Lily was getting on the salt situation. It had to be a demon, right? Even if it was made out of metal, nothing moved like this otherwise. And it wasn’t like anything made out of metal could be alive, so demon was obviously the solution.

Four more steps back and still there was no salt. “Lily!”

“She says it’s not a demon,” Stacie called back, a lot farther from Beca from the sound of her voice than Beca wanted.

“How the hell does she know?” Beca thought about that for a second. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. Just tell me how in the heavens I’m going to get out of this alive.”

There was murmuring behind her, but a distinct lack of actual advice.

“Chloe! If I die I blame you wholly and completely, I just want you to know that.”

The gargoyle opened its mouth and Beca waited for it to lunge at her and rip her throat open, but it did not do that. It kept following her step for step, but there was no pouncing.

“My Mistress wishes you a Merry Christmas,” it said in a stuttering, grainy, mechanical voice.

That was it for Beca. She literally could not take any more of this weirdness. And so she screamed, long and loud like some sort of small child whose parents had told them that monsters were real and hiding under their bed just waiting to eat them. It was not dignified by any means.

She turned on her heel and started to run, not run, sprint away from the gargoyle. She made it all of about four steps before she tripped on a root and went face first into the snow. The wind was knocked out of her and she laid there in the cold wet for a few long seconds trying to remember how to breathe again. She heard the running footsteps of the Bellas fading into the woods in front of her. Well at least all of them wouldn’t die. They could tell her father what had happened. But she couldn’t help feeling a bit betrayed as well. They had left her here to die alone.

A metal hand gripped her arm. “I did not mean to frighten you.” The gargoyle pulled Beca up with inhuman strength.

Beca found her legs again quickly and scrambled back. Or tried to scramble back. The thing had grip strength enough to keep here exactly where it wanted her.

“Are you hurt?” It blinked again, eyelids making clicking noises. Beca wondered why in the world it needed to blink at all if it was a demon, or if not a demon most definitely a machine.

“Why do you blink?” Well, that shouldn’t have come out. If anything she should have demanded to be let go.

“To keep the joints and gears that move my eyes lubricated.”

“So your tears are oil?”

It nodded. “But you did not answer my question. My mistress will be very displeased if you were hurt.”

The front door of the mansion opened. “What in the world is all of this racket. Cornwallis I did not make you to run around like a heard of elephants screaming like a pig,” an accented feminine voice said.

The gargoyle let go of Beca, turned around, and bowed to the woman standing in the doorway. Beca actually looked away from the gargoyle for the first time in what seemed like a millennia and gasped. The woman now standing on the porch in stocking feet was the angel to the gargoyle’s demon.

Her eyes landed on Beca and Beca’s heart stopped.

“Oh, I see, you were not the one screaming then.” She sighed heavily. “Yes, what do you want?”

Beca didn’t quite know what to say to that. The entire reason she was here ran off without her so it would look like she was a bit crazy. And she didn’t want this flawless person in front of her to think that about her. But she also didn’t want to lie for whatever reason. Her brain was tearing her in two and her tongue didn’t know which impulse to follow and now she was looking even more like an idiot because it seemed like she didn’t know how to answer a simple question.

“Caroling,” she finally spit out. “Christmas caroling. A group of my friends who have already run off without me because your gargoyle here is more than a little creepy and I came here on our rounds through the neighborhood singing.” She felt herself flushing. “It was stupid to be scared of this thing, but I mean your house sort of is in the middle of the woods and the gates open on their own and gargoyles are not supposed to move and then Lily said something about demons and I just think that we were sort of a little freaked out before everything.” She tried to take a step back but her ankle on the foot that had snagged on the root gave out.

Before she could hit the ground the gargoyle had caught her. “You are injured,” it said.

“Um, no, it’s fine I guess I just twisted it. If I walk on it I am sure it will work itself out.”

The gargoyle hesitated for a second before letting her go. Beca tried to walk immediately to show she was right but another step and she was down, a small noise of pain escaping her mouth.

“Bring her inside, Cornwallis, obviously my night of quiet reading is not meant to be.” The woman sounded aggravated.

“I do not mean to be any trouble.” And also just because the gargoyle wasn’t going to kill her didn’t mean she wasn’t still a little bit freaked out. If she could have just resisted Chloe’s puppy eyes she could be home and not being held up by a gargoyle.

Well, that wasn’t a sentence one thought every day. Or ever. Maybe she was asleep and just dreaming of all the ways that this caroling escapade could go wrong. Except she was pretty sure that her imagination wasn’t ever going to come up with something as crazy as this so she had to be awake.

“You have already been trouble so that point is moot. Besides, you obviously cannot walk on that ankle and will need it patched up. I am not sending Cornwallis or any of the other guards out to carry you back to where your home is in this god forsaken city. Why all the best parts are in London I will never know.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Come along then, Cornwallis.” The woman turned and walked back into the house without another word.

The gargoyle scooped Beca up more firmly and carried her in the house. Beca was as stiff as a board the entire time. Being carried by a sentient machine was not something that she wanted to repeat any time soon.

They both entered the house and door closed automatically after them. This time Beca saw what looked to be motorized pistons closing the door slowly, little puffs of steam escaping them. She would bet a large sum that those mechanisms were what opened the gate too. Well, at least that made things a little less disconcerting.

Beca looked around while Cornwallis carried her, lip bitten in awe. The decoration was just as stark as the outside, dark heavy fabrics everywhere, metal accents and bobbles catching the flickering firelight. The real draw, though, was the amount of mechanical things that chugged along in corners, swept down the hall at a frantic pace, swooped overhead. Beca’s attention was particularly caught by a blimp making its way around the house slowly, a tray filled with tea and cakes suspended below it. All of it was like nothing she had ever seen before. Well, almost. It reminded her a bit of her attempts to create her own musical invention. She recognized some of the parts of the machines around her from things she had worked with.

How in the world had this woman hidden away? With all the technology around her, things that the modern world were just starting to make for themselves at a rudimentary level, the woman could have been famous, could have been the worlds savior inventor, or at least something like it. Yet, Beca was sure she had never seen her on any of the publications her father brought home to read in his spare time, and definitely not on any of the newspapers either.

Cornwallis walked into what had to be a library. The gargoyle made a beeline for the couch right across from the fireplace and set her down gently. The woman was already in a chair to the side of the couch, flipping a page on a book and frowning. She glanced up at Beca, marked her page, and shut the book.

“Go get Amadeus then you are free to return to your post,” she said.

Cornwallis bowed. “Yes, Mistress.” And then he was off.

“Who’s Amadeus?” Beca asked.

“The house servant and the one programmed with knowledge of how to deal with small scale injuries.”

Beca blinked at that. The blimp floated into the room slowly and then set down its load before floating off again.

“Are all your affairs run by machines?” she asked.

“The mundane affairs, yes. The more complicated matters I still take care of myself. I have not found a program that I would trust to take care of everything just yet, but I am working on it.” The woman picked up the pot of tea and poured herself a cup. She looked up at Beca as an afterthought. “Would you like a cup?”

Beca was chilled from that face plant in the snow. “Yes, please. Two sugars if you do not mind.”

The woman nodded and prepared the tea as Beca had asked for it. She handed over the cup when she was done and Beca sipped at it, sighing as the hot liquid slid down her throat and warmed her slowly from the inside out. England did not do much right, but tea, tea she could get behind.

She looked over the cup at her hostess. Beca considered her next words carefully. “I am sorry, I should have introduced myself as soon as your gargoyle set me down, I am Beca Mitchell.” She smiled at the other woman.

“Mina Stauss.”

Another machine walked into the room. This one looked nothing like Cornwallis had, there was nothing gargoyle like about it. If anything it looked like a person, or at least a character of one. Beca didn’t know if she liked that any more than the gargoyle persona. She supposed it probably was an improvement since it wasn’t so fearsome, but something about looking like a character of a person was creepy, almost in that way that dolls did sometimes.

It shuffled over to Beca. “Hello, Miss, I will tend to your injury if it pleases you.”

Beca nodded slowly and the machine set to work, gently untying the laces of her boot on her injured foot and easing it off as Beca gritted her teeth and tried not to cry out. Perhaps her foot was worse off than she had thought. It poked and prodded her and Beca couldn’t hold in gasps of pain at points. It lasted far too long in Beca’s opinion, but finally the machine wrapped up her ankle in bandages snugly and stepped back.

“You have a moderate sprain, Miss. You will not be able to walk on it for a few days. I can fashion a pair of crutches shortly so you may move about.”

“Great, give me the crutches and I can be out of your hair.” Hobbling home across town was not her definition of a good idea but she would do it if she had to.

“Nonsense,” Mina said, pursing her lips. “It is far too icy out there for you to be galavanting about on crutches and it is far too late for a woman to be walking around on her own even if we are in the better section of town.”

“But my father expects me home in a few hours. He will worry.” More like he would lecture her until he red in the face and Beca dearly wanted to avoid that.

Mina sighed. “Amadeus fetch some stationary and a pen please.”

The machine bowed. “Of course mistress.”

The other woman turned back to Beca. “We will send a message to your father then and I am sure he will make arrangements for your travel home.”

Beca wondered why in the world the other woman just didn’t order her carriage prepared if she wanted Beca gone so she could read in peace once more, but it wasn’t exactly her place to ask such a question and so she kept her mouth shut.

Amadeus appeared again shortly and handed the paper and pen to Beca. Beca took the paper and penned a quick missive to her father explaining what had happened at least in part. There was no way her father would believe anything about the gargoyle so she changed that to a guard dog that the Bellas had run from and explained from there, requesting to be picked up as soon as possible so as not to inconvenience her host. She was still going to hear about this for weeks even though she was alerting her father to what happened in a timely fashion. He’d go on and on about how young ladies were not supposed to do such things like waltz onto property unannounced and god forbid run like an animal. She almost wanted to hobble out in spite of Mina’s orders not to.

When she was done she folded up the paper, put her address on it and handed it back to Amadeus who had stayed near her side.

“Take it to Eloise, tell her to go out and find a street boy to take the letter to this address and promise him a generous sum, half for the trip and half on his return with a reply from Miss Mitchell’s father.”

Amadeus nodded, bowed again, and left for a final time.

Silence reigned around the two of them, hanging awkwardly from the rafters and crackling loudly like a wildfire. Beca wasn’t exactly sure what she should say next. Was thank you appropriate? After all the woman was only trying to get rid of Beca, but then again she could have just let Beca hobble out the door on crutches and left her to the wolves of London.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Beca said, finally deciding that saying thanks wasn’t going to hurt anything and it was better safe than sorry.

“Of course, I will not have your death on my conscious. After all, you were clumsy enough to trip and sprain your ankle when you had two perfectly serviceable legs. I cannot imagine what you would do to yourself while on crutches.” She sniffed.

Beca frowned. “You know, just because you are stunning beautiful does not mean that you get to say such things to me, Miss Stauss. I mean, I love hearing your voice as much as the next person because you have a lovely accent, but I will not be insulted by someone I barely know.” Wait, that had come out much more complimentary than Beca had wanted it to. If it wouldn’t seem like weakness Beca would rub her hands over her face in frustration.

There was the beginning of a smile on Mina’s face. “I suppose being beautiful does not mean that I can insult strangers, no, so why do we not get to know each other, Miss Mitchell, so I may say what I please.”

“That is still not how that works.” Beca crossed her arms in front of her, pressing her corset more firmly into her chest. She almost groaned. She really did hate this garment.

“But that is certainly what you just implied by your previous statement, is it not?”

Well, she wasn’t wrong, Beca supposed, but that still didn’t me she was going to admit it. “You are twisting my words and batting your ridiculously long eyelashes to make up for it.” First she tripped and fell on her face and now she was tripping and falling over her own tongue. This was not going in her favor. She was totally just going to shut up now.

Mina chuckled. “I cannot say I was batting them per say, but I will give you the point anyway.”

They fell silent again. Beca finished off the last of her tea and set the cup and saucer on the coffee table in front of her quietly. She looked around the room again, taking it in more fully. This room was decorated in deep, deep red and dark wood polished so well Beca could see her reflection from across the room. Silver gears turned on the walls, keeping a clock ticking, others leading to a few other devices that Beca wasn’t sure of the function. Everything here it seemed was some machine or another.

“Did you make all of these things yourself?” Beca asked, without even realizing that she had wanted to ask the question, let alone speak it aloud.

“I did, yes. I have a great amount of free time and a great intellect. I might as well put it to use, do you not think so? It is a much better use of my time than mixing with the socialites here and simpering over some man’s accomplishments when I have done a great deal more than he ever will.” Mina sounded just the slightest bit bitter. Beca could totally relate.

“Yeah, you aren’t missing out on much. So is that why no one knows about all of your work? It’s all groundbreaking. You literally have sentient machines, Miss Stauss. I cannot even begin to imagine how something like that would change the world.”

Mina’s hands tightened  on the arms of her chair so hard that her fingers turned white. “Oh, it is partly that, yes, I will not lie, but mostly it is the fact that I am a woman and even though I have brought my inventions to a great many science academies no one gives me the recognition I deserve. I was very fortunate to obtain my doctorate degree, they said, and that I should just stop while I am ahead, while I am pretty, and find someone to marry. As if I would ever do that, I marry a man and I become nothing more than someone to show off at parties at best and at worse I have my inventions stolen and credited to my husband. No, I think I will avoid that.”

Beca snorted but immediately looked up, sheepish. “Excuse me, but I just understand at least some of what you are saying rather well. My father is a professor and despite the fact that he is very, very educated, I am forbidden from college because it might ruin my fragile mind.” She rolled her eyes.

“How enlightened of him,” Mina said, deadpan.

“Indeed. I just wanted to go to a conservatory to learn more about music, not even a grand university, but even that is too much. A lady must be interested in music but not too much. I have had the last say though, I am working on a project in my own spare time that would allow sound to be distorted after it has already been recorded and also make all manner of sounds as well.”

Mina sat forward. “A fellow woman inventor, how intriguing.” She set aside the book that had been tucked between her leg and the arm of the chair. “How do you plan about doing this?”

Beca’s face lit up and she detailed everything she had done so far and what she believed would happen as she kept going forward. It was the first time she had actually spoken about it where someone had actually looked like they were understanding what she was saying. It was actually quite amazing.

“I think I am at a snag right now, however. I have not had much time to work on it since it did not work quite as I was hoping, though. The compression piston is working fine, but getting it to release in a varying manner does not seem to work.”

“Have you tried fitting a variable valve to it? You could connect it to a control panel from there and you would have what you need, I believe.”

Beca thought about that for a moment. “You know, I think that would work. It might even work better than what I originally planned." 

Now that she thought about it she wanted to get home and do it and test it out. It could be a major jump forward.

Mina smiled at her. “I see you are itching to work.” Her eyes flicked down to Beca’s ankle. “However, I am not entirely convinced that you will be able to work on anything in the near future.”

Beca frowned down at her ankle. Yes, it would be rather hard to stand at a work bench with only one leg. Well, that would definitely interfere with her plans.

The other woman hummed. “Perhaps there is something that can be done so that you can work while you heal. Excuse me for a moment.”

Mina stood up and made her way from the room in an elegant sweep of coat tails. How the woman could pull of men’s clothing and make it seem completely and totally ordinary. Beca hadn’t even noticed before that she was wearing anything other than a dress. It was more than a little alluring, Beca had to admit.

She blushed at that thought. Those were not the thoughts she should be having right now. Mina was just trying to help her, get her out of that wonderful blonde hair of hers, that was totally all. It wasn’t like the other woman had almost totally thawed when she had mentioned that she was something of an inventor as well. It seemed as if that was the way into Mina’s heart. But why did she care about finding a way into the other woman’s heart. Obviously she was addled from her fall.

Beca rubbed her hands over her face and sat father back in the rather comfortable couch. It was rather warm and cozy in this sitting room at least. It was a vast improvement over the outside world of ice and snow.  She let her head fall back on the back of the couch and willed the blush on her face to dissipate.

She was too busy trying to relax to hear Mina come back into the room until the other woman spoke above her. “Miss Mitchell.”

Beca sat up straight as a board. “Uh, yeah, hi, I mean hello there.”

Mina smirked and held up a rather convoluted contraption glinting with copper gears and wires and glowing a soft green. “I think this will help you at least in the interim. It will be a bit ungainly, but I believe it is better than nothing yes?”

Beca nodded quickly. “Yeah, definitely. I really do not want to be trapped upstairs with my father going on and on about how he is glad that I am perusing more womanly pursuits instead of my malarkey in the basement.”

“Well we definitely cannot have that.” She gestured down at Beca’s injured leg. “May I? It straps to your leg, a bit like a peg leg, but it is more self-stabilizing so you need not have a long learning period.”

“Sure.”

Mina went to work strapping the prosthetic on, securing it to her bent knee with gentle fingers.

“Your hands are so soft,” Beca said, without thinking. Her eyes widened and she tried to back pedal hard. “I just mean that you are always working with your hands and it is surprising—”

“No need to explain, I know what you mean.” She smiled. “You are nervous like a mouse a tiny mouse at that. It is endearing.”

Beca was back to blushing again. “Uh, thank you?”

“Come, let us see if this leg works as I think it will.” Mina grabbed Beca’s hands and pulled her up gently. Beca placed her weight delicately on her bent knee and new leg. It felt odd having her foot sticking out behind her while she was standing up, but she was stable and felt like she could stay up. She took a small step forward and didn’t stumble and then another and another.

“I believe this will work.”

Mina smiled. “Wonderful. While we are waiting for your father’s response would you like to see my work station?”

“Yes, of course. It should be fascinating.”

“Oh, you have no idea. The whole right wing of the house is dedicated to various workstations, but I thought perhaps we might try to set up something with that variable valve and see if it would work out. I do so love solving problems.” Mina smiled, a genuine bright smile and it took Beca’s breath away.

“That sounds even better.” She reached out for Mina. “I feel stable enough, but perhaps I should hold on to you just in case while I get used to this?”

Mina offered her arm and Beca looped hers through with only slight amount of embarrassment. She didn’t need to do this, but it had sounded like a very good idea in her head. And now that she was touching Mina it was a good idea, but yet she was terrified that the other woman would see through her ruse.

They walked slowly to the other side of the mansion, and if Beca had though the living space was grand, the work space was something out of this world. It definitely looked like it. There were steam belching machine, glinting metal all around, glassware with bubbling mixtures that Beca couldn’t identify. It was much like she imagined an evil scientists lair, but there wasn’t that sense of evil about the space. It was just a space of pure creation. Beca could feel it and it excited her greatly.

Mina led her around the space telling her about certain projects and machines with glee. Beca understood a great lot of what the other woman was saying, but even so there was still a lot that went over her head. It was wonderfully entertaining and Beca felt like she could spend an age in the room and still be happy as a clam. She almost didn’t want her father to respond to her message and to just leave her here. For more than one reason.

“And here, Miss Mitchell, would be the workspace that we need for your little project.” She handed Beca a pair of gloves and an apron. “We wouldn’t want your dress to get stained now would we?” She asked with a smile.

Beca helped to sort the tools needed, all the while looking at Mina out of the corner of her eye. In her element she was even more radiant that she had been in the sitting room or on the porch. Beca felt herself half in love already.

Which was ridiculous, she couldn’t be half in love with a woman she had just met not even three hours before. She took a deep breath and centered herself, looking back to her work. It really was coming along just like she had thought it would this time. She felt that little high she always felt when something went right when she was making something. Working together Beca and Mina got everything almost put together in record time.

Beca was squished in beside Mina, screwing a few tiny screws in place when it happened. She turned to look at Mina to ask her something, she had forgotten what as soon as she had realized that Mina’s face was quite literally an inch from her own, maybe less. Her breath caught in her throat and there was that blush again that always gave her away. She could hide her emotions with the best of them, but somehow blushing was the one thing that she could not control. She hated that fact infinitely in that moment.

Mina did not break eye contact with Beca for a long moment, an emotion on her face that Beca couldn’t quite place, before reaching and tightening the bolt that Beca had been reaching for. Beca managed to snap out of whatever had taken over her before and set back to work without another word. She most definitely didn’t want to talk about what had just happened. Ever.

They stepped back from their work a few minutes later and smiled. “What do you say, Miss Mitchell, shall we test it?”

“Yes!” Beca would have bounced on her toes if she could have, but one injured ankle was enough for the day. It looked good, better than anything Beca could have put together herself in her own basement. She didn’t have the tools and parts that Mina did and made do with that, but here in a land of plenty she could actually fine tune things. And Mina’s craftsmanship was gorgeous as well. She had utter and absolute faith that it would work.

“Good.” Mina toggled the on switch slowly up and watched as the valve let more and more air out as it was turned up. She turned it back down again, toggled it randomly for a few seconds before she stepped back. “I do believe we have done it.” She looked over at Beca, pleased look on her face. “You are quite the inventor, Miss Mitchell.”

Beca looked around the workspace. “No, I think you are the true inventor here, but thank you for thinking so.”

Amadeus strode into the room. “Mistress, a Professor Mitchell is here for Miss Mitchell.”

Both women blinked.

“He sent word that he was coming?” Mina asked.

“He did, Mistress, I told you about an hour and a half ago.”

“How long have we been in here, Amadeus?”

“A little over three hours.”

Beca looked at Mina. She definitely didn’t think they have spent so much time here. It had seemed like a blink, and she definitely hadn’t heard Amadeus come in either, let alone any of his words.

“Invite him in and make him comfortable. Tell him that I am tending to Miss Mitchell’s ankle once more before she leaves and that it will only be a few moments.”

Amadeus nodded and walked off again.

Mina turned to Beca. “Well, I suppose we should clean up then. You need rest for that ankle to fully heal.”

Beca nodded, unable to say anything else. There was a profound sense of sadness welling up inside her at having to leave Mina and her wonderful workshop. Still, though, she cleaned up quietly beside the other woman.

When they were done she turned to Mina. “It was wonderful working with you, Miss Stauss.”

Mina stepped forward and took Beca’s hands. “Of course, it is always lovely to meet a kindred soul, and please call me Mina. I believe working side by side for hours without realizing it entitles you to use my Christian name. Perhaps you would be interested in coming around again.”

Beca perked up immediately. “I would like that, a lot, actually. And if I am to call you Mina you have to call me Beca.”

“Beca, that is a wonderful name, though tiny mouse has a nice ring to it as well,” she teased.

“I am a perfectly average height!”

Mina laughed and raised a hand to cup Beca’s cheek. “You are, but compared to me you are tiny, mouse.” She leaned down and kissed Beca on the opposite cheek, a little too close to Beca’s lips to be decent, but Beca found she didn’t mind. She blushed again, and maybe her whole existence around this woman would just be one long blush, but she found she didn’t quite mind.

“Go on, then,” Mina said pulling away. “Your father were certainly be waiting. Would you mind it terribly if while your ankle is healing I came to visit? As much as I like my home fresh air is good every now and then.”

“It would be the highlight of my healing period.” Her heart beat harder in her chest. Her father couldn’t say much, obviously Mina was a woman of considerable wealth if this was how she spent her days. She was suitable company for a lady and she definitely wasn’t above using her father’s own standards against him when he got fussy.

“It is settled then. I will send notice of my calling of course in a few days time.”

Beca smiled and Mina helped her out of the prosthetic leg and onto crutches. She was horrible at using them, but Mina was there to help and that took the sting out of the humiliation.

She could tell her father was livid with her when they entered the sitting room and he popped up out of his seat like some sort of child’s toy. Oh how she was not looking forward to that, but then Mina squeezed her arm one last time, stepped forward and charmed her father in just a few words, and suddenly Beca found herself in a carriage with her father with little drama.

Beca looked back as the carriage started to move and waved at Mina, a small little thing, but Mina still caught the movement and waved back. Oh yes, Beca would look forward to Mina’s visit, but somehow she thought she would look forward more to the time when she could visit Mina at her own mansion once her ankle healed and they could return to tinkering on one project or anything.

And if something more were to happen, if lips meant for kisses on cheeks strayed too far, well, Beca didn’t think she would mind.

 

 


End file.
